


tired of counting stars, I'm restless without you

by justagirlwithwords



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Break Up, F/M, Gen, Getting Back Together, M/M, Post-Break Up, no ghosts, nonlinear storytelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28664145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justagirlwithwords/pseuds/justagirlwithwords
Summary: He thinks she probably wrote it here, maybe on the couch, maybe on their bed. He doesn’t miss the way she says “my room” instead of ours, though he supposes a lot of their stuff hadn’t been “theirs” for a while.It only takes a year for Luke and Julie to put themselves back together.
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Kudos: 33





	tired of counting stars, I'm restless without you

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'll be honest, this sort of got away from me and I'm considering writing Julie's side of it, but here it is! In the universe, the boys are alive, they've all known each other since they were 16/17, and the fic happens when they're 25/26. It's nonlinear, with the italics serving as flashbacks. 
> 
> title from Home Sweet Hotel by New Rules. 
> 
> I recommend listening to these songs to really get you in the post-breakup zone:   
> How by Elina  
> Is It just me? Emily Burns feat. JP Cooper  
> Home Sweet Hotel by New Rules  
> Same Room by JP Saxe

**Hallway, just a smidge after midnight, 2 days shy of New Years Eve.**

Luke knew, in that moment, with _too-much-to-handle_ clarity. When he walked away, with a duffle bag over his shoulder, after the shouting, after the tears, after the frustration, down the hallway away from their apartment. He was certain she was crumpled on the floor, curls everywhere, crying in devastation, he was certain that his heart was broken. It had been shattered to pieces so small, like that painted vase that slipped off the dining table when he bumped into it on his way out, it was likely irreparable. It was done. He was done.

_Alex and Reggie, and Flynn for that matter, liked to take credit for their handiwork, often making verbose statements of playing with the threads of fate and playing matchmaker just too well. Luke disagreed. Sure, he was oblivious, but sometimes if he questioned that excuse too._

_He thinks he was always a little in love with Julie Molina, he’d be foolish not to. He loved her voice. He loved her smile. He loved her kindness. The moment he realized he really loved her though, like enough to never pick up a guitar again, scream on the rooftops, sing every love ballad ever written, sit by her side through anything, it was anticlimactic. It had been a rough night. Julie had nearly fainted, swaying dangerously, pushing through a high fever she thought was a good idea not to tell anybody about. They called it a night and he ushered her into bed. This was before they were officially together — when the spent just as much time writing as they did dancing around each other in their own personally crafted limbo._

_She asked him to stay and he ran his hand through her hair, checking her fever, as she dozed off, movie softly playing on her laptop. Eventually he put it away, getting comfortable, when he came to the realization that he would never want to be anywhere else. Not even the stage._

_In hindsight, Luke realized he fell in parts, even though loving Julie Molina felt like falling face first into the chasm._

“It’s 2 am, who could it possibly…” Willie had muttered to himself as he opened the door, though the words halted abruptly. Luke was ushered in almost immediately and Willie called for Alex.

He was sitting there, bouncing his knee, running through the chords for _Stand Tall_ in his head, and he hadn’t said a word since he got there. He _knew_ Willie and Alex were looking at him with concern, and he felt guilty about waking them up, but he just didn’t know where to go.

He was sure they were talking to each other with their eyes, something he normally found endearing, but now just found annoying, when Alex padded over, with a cup of hot chocolate, and sat next to him. He put it on the coffee table in front of them, no coaster this time (which he knew must have pained his blonde best friend to no end), and that was all it took. He turned and buried his head in Alex’s shoulders and he cried, cried, cried. He wasn’t making sense and he didn’t want to.

“It’s gonna be okay, Luke. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.” Alex’s voice was soothing, his hand rubbing circles on his back. After being coaxed to the guest bedroom of their quaint townhome, with promises of talking it out in the morning, Alex and Willie left him to be.

He couldn’t remember the last time he slept alone. Even when the band was working late or doing whatever it was that they were doing, she was always tucked into his side, or at the very least, an arm’s width away. He could tug on her curls or sneak a kiss or simply _release_ every bit of tension, sprawling like a starfish, and it didn’t matter. Because _she_ was _there._

_They were stargazing on the night that he told her. Well…okay, they weren’t actually stargazing, if you considered the details — the quietness of 3 am, the cold coffee, his songbook open to some random page, the really really large window that faced the inky sky — but Luke supposes that he was always stargazing when he looked at Julie. (But, they weren’t outdoors, okay? Let him embellish, goddamn it)._

_“Something feels off about the lyrics, Luke. I’m not even feeling them…they’re flat. How are we supposed to put this to any sort of melody? How are we supposed to have a finished song to show Alex and Reg?”_

_“I love you.”_

_“Well, you know I love you too, but don’t you wanna finish this song?”_

_“No, no, I’m in love with you.” He had jumped up at this point (they had been lying on the floor, forgoing the couch that was right there, because sometimes despair and frustration had to be embodied) and that restless energy of his somehow returning despite the lack of caffeine and the sleepy surroundings. He was too nervous to look. He was pacing, channeling his inner Alex, and he refused to make eye contact._

_“I know you’re talking about the lyrics. But the lyrics don’t look right because I was trying, trying so hard to put what I felt for you into them, ya know? Because that’s what I do best. I write these songs and they’ve just worked in the past. With my mom. With Alex. With Reggie. They say what I want to say without me having to say it. But you, Jules, you’re just too much. You’re like this — I just — I don’t think words will ever be enough when it comes to you.”_

_"Luke, I —“_

_“And clearly the song needs a lot of work. It’s not even going to get to a point where we can start setting up the chords tonight. And it’s hollow. I’ve been staring at them for days, trying to force them to not tell me what they’re telling me. But the thing is, I can’t wait any longer and I know, I know, this is A LOT for 3 am. And sometimes I’m A LOT, but—“_

_“Luke, shut up. I love you too. I’ve been in love with you for way too long and that’s why I’m not surprised you didn’t let me get a word in and spiraled instead.” Julie laughed slightly, the exhale of her breath lifting her curls as she walked to him._

_And suddenly it was Julie. Julie. Julie. They kissed. And kissed some more. When dawn broke, they were delirious on lack of sleep and probably love too. When they told the boys that afternoon, (“About time,”) they whooped and screamed and hugged them, and it was perfect._

_The song was finished 2 days later._

That morning, after barely sleeping, he entered the kitchen to Willie and Alex whispering softly, huddled close to each other. They stopped when he entered though, as to be expected.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Alex asked softly, in that knowing tone of his.

“I can go upstairs if you would rather it just be the two of you,” Willie offered, shrugging with a slight smile. Bless his heart, despite how long he had been in their lives, he always felt the need to defer solely to the role of Alex’s boyfriend, even though he was just as much a friend as he was family.

“No, no stay. I uh, Julie and I, we broke up.”

The rest of the morning was spent in low tones of semi-explanations. He knew the guest bedroom was his as long as he needed it, and he _hated_ that he needed it.

Two days later, he rang in the New Year with them, offering to leave for a bar to give them some time alone. He felt as bitter as the beer he downed.

One week later, he received the email from Andi. As per their contract, they had until July of the new year to not only take a hiatus from touring (they had just returned from opening for Panic!) but to start working on a new album. They could work on any side projects they wanted, so long as by July 15th they had a game plan for a new album.

They were riding the high of the tour, with their fanbase growing slowly but surely, and the break had been something they all looked forward to.

_“Oh my god, you guys!!” Flynn waved frantically, stopping the rehearsal. They had just put out their EP, titled Wake Up, World, a month prior. It had been doing the rounds, and while Andi was a fantastic manager, Flynn still handled socials and behind-the-scenes footage. She had been recording some snippets for instagram when they all stopped at her request._

_“You guys are going to be opening for Panic’s new tour!”_

_It was pin drop silent before they all rushed to Flynn to see the email, squealing in delight. Luke remembers pulling Julie in for a searing kiss, whispering that he wanted to remember this moment for the rest of his life, just like this, before Reggie jumped on his back and he was taken down._

It had been radio silence from Julie since that night. Though Alex and Reggie both let him know that she was okay. Flynn had simply refused to speak to him for the time being, though her text was as threatening as it was vaguely optimistic. He didn’t really know what to do with that interpretation, so off to the side it went.

The band hadn’t talked as a band since it all went down, fragments of conversation making their way to either side like a horribly warped game of telephone. She made the first move though. Exactly a month after their fight. She plans a lunch to discuss their plans for their break, at a restaurant none of them frequented. He likes to think that’s on purpose. 

“So…I’m sure it’s been a little weird. I’m sorry it took this long for me to reach out to all of you regarding Andi’s email. That was unfair of me.”

“Jules, don’t worry about it. You know we have time.” Alex reassured, patting her hand from where he sat next to her. He sat diagonal to her, grateful Reggie had the wherewithal to sit directly in front of her.

“Andi says that she thinks our next album could land us our own tour. She think’s we’re right on the precipice of really making it.” She says nonchalantly, filling the blanks that had been burning in all of their minds.

Taking a sip of her water, she carries on, “I think we can do it. I just don’t think I’m ready yet to go back into full writing mode.” Translation: I’m not ready to spend that much time with you again, Luke. He got the picture.

“Do you think we can handle writing and sorting everything out if we picked up in April?”

“Works for me! I wanted to travel some anyways.” Reggie agreed jovially. They all nodded.

“I’ve decided to spend some time with Flynn in New York. She’s working on a fashion project there for a few months.”

“Willie and I — well, I really want to propose. This break will be good.”

Luke nodded, offering a weak acknowledgment: “I think April will leave us with plenty of time to figure out our sound. And our theme, for what we want to do next.” Everyone nodded. The air was stilted though.

The rest of the lunch was spent discussing anything but them, straying to Willie’s latest exhibition, Carlos’ latest antics at college, though he contributed little.

Later that week, Julie texted him this: _stay at the apartment while I’m gone. It’ll be empty anyways._

It’s just barely the start of February, when he walks in again. He’s sure Willie and Alex are happy to have their space again but he’s not sure if he can spend all this time here, alone. Reggie had offered to grab him some things after it all went down so he hadn’t had to return until now.

He notices, belatedly, that the vase had been cleaned up (as if it was supposed to stay broken and on the floor until he returned, but he still takes note). He doesn’t bother cataloguing what is and isn’t still there, choosing sanity over heartbreak just this once, turning on the TV instead. He had already decided he would stay in the guest bedroom for the time being (points for continuity, right?).

_When they had first gotten together, Julie was finishing up at UCLA. Ray had been adamant that she get a degree alongside her band work, though that was really the extent of his “strictness.” Alex had managed to finish an economics degree in two years, it had been a last ditch effort to appease his parents, and even Reggie had enrolled in some math courses, for fun._

_Though Reggie and him worked at the music store, and the ice cream store, and gave music lessons on the side, to supplement their wallets and their time. Regardless, it was a week before Julie’s graduation when he told her he had a surprise for her. He took her to this apartment of theirs, showing her the cozy kitchen and the nook in the living room for their instruments._

_“I know you’re just graduating. I’m still working my odd jobs. But, we’ve signed with Andi, and Jules, I really think we’re gonna make it.” He had confessed sheepishly, worried she might find the thought of living with him irresponsible._

_“It’s perfect. There’s even the guest bedroom for the boys to stay over. I love it. I love you.”_

He knew from long-distance calls with Reg and texts from Alex that Julie was coping. That while she maybe seemed more put together than he was, she was still dealing. He tried to not spend too much time on Instagram, though their fans had been hounding them for updates on _anything_ really. It was almost March, though, and time was flying.

He was grateful for Reggie’s fun pictures doing its job at placating them. Alex’s elaborate proposal had also been featured nicely on most blog sites, too. He had picked up pottery(?) as a way to keep his hands busy; he mindlessly strummed his guitar these days, spending more time on acoustic, scribbles of mini songs and mini bridges on stickies everywhere. (He had forgone his songbook for now, not wanting to see her neat script next to his).

Alex called him, though. Which was random, but okay.

“What’s up?”

“You should listen to what Julie posted.”

“What?”

Alex hung up with no response. Some best friend he was.

He pulled up her instagram, something he had done very sparingly. There was a video, black and white, her glasses low on the bridge of her nose, her hair unruly.

“Inspiration struck me. It’s untitled for now. And unfinished.” She hastily introduced, before setting the phone down and sitting at the piano. The piano was soft. Her voice was softer.

**You swirled around my room**

**Like an everlasting ghost**

**He's right here but I'm alone**

**Morning breaks, I'm still in my clothes**

He thinks she probably wrote it here, maybe on the couch, maybe on their bed. He doesn’t miss the way she says “my room” instead of ours, though he supposes, a lot of their stuff hadn’t been “theirs” for a while.

**So, how is it supposed to feel?**

**'Cause I don't feel a thing**

**Other than the emptiness since you lеft**

**So how is it supposed to feel?**

**'Cause I don't want a thing**

**Other than thе sound of your heartbeat next to mine**

She signs off with a mere “Let me know what you think,” and thinks that last bit must have been the chorus. It had chorus-potential. Her voice was achingly soft, haunting in a way that was so different than her more typical, wrecking ball, powerhouse sound.

He knows their fans have speculated both their relationship and their breakup. They never confirmed the first one so he thinks it’s fitting they didn’t have to address the latter. The official @julieandthephantoms account had put out a fun post about their break, four pictures in a thread, earlier that week, in hopes of keeping the fans happy. He’s certain the account, run by Flynn, has shared Julie’s post too, whether as a personal affront to him or as a way to drum up anticipation that they she was writing again. Either way, it was good for business. It was horrible on his heart.

For the first time though, since he walked away, he felt himself itching to really write something of substance, something a bit more full than half-empty and hollow lines that never went anywhere.

And so, he wrote. He had never successfully been able to convey all that was _Julie_ in song before. His words failed him too often when it came to her.

_He remembers her shyly sharing “Perfect Harmony,” a partially fleshed out song that needed to be a duet._

_“I don’t…it doesn’t need to be on the EP. We already put Wake Up on there, and if anything, I really want us to showcase Alex and Reggie’s voices more. I just wanted to show you.”_

_She sang the song softly to him and he read through her lyrics. He listened with keen interest, willing himself to not reveal that he had accidentally found the song months prior, had already filled in her empty spaces with lyrics he hoped were worthy._

_His act was quick to dissolve when he too easily suggested a few lines. She had rolled her eyes knowingly._

_“You’ve seen the song.” There was no accusation in her tone though, just slight amusement, all very matter of fact._

_“I—yes, I did. A while ago. I didn’t say anything because I figured you would when you were ready. I just couldn’t help but try and write some for it. You know me Jules.” She laughed and caressed his cheek, as though his blush and embarrassment was just her favorite thing._

_“Yeah, I expect nothing less from you Patterson.” They never did put it on the EP, instead performing it live for the first time on stage, in front of thousands._

Call-and-response was their thing. It had been their thing since Bright, and Finally Free, and too many songs after that. They wrote together nearly all the time, filling two halves of a whole. This way was unorthodox, though. Singing to her through a platform that everyone else would see, singing lyrics that hadn’t already been written or polished by her, singing something softer, something so bare.

He hadn’t bothered with the preamble. The video was simple. Taken one week later. Phone propped up on the pot of a succulent, facing him sitting on the couch, acoustic in his lap.

**It's been three months and two days and five hours**

**Since I walked away and we left it so sour, I know**

**That you're probably thinking you're better without me**

**And all my days have turned cold but not as cold as your shoulder**

**I've been thinking it over, while I drink myself sober again**

**Please understand**

There was no introduction, no explanation, nothing. He remembers liking her own post with the trepidation of a nervous, over-thinking teenager; his desire to tell her that he listened to it winning out in the end. She doesn’t like his post though. No, she maybe tells Flynn to share it on the band’s official page, probably. (Or maybe, Flynn did it on her own accord, he can never tell with her).

It’s two days later when she send him a voice recording, with just the following: a few lines of the chorus. He doesn’t like that they’re communicating through these ridiculous messages, things both clear and abstract, vague and specific.

When April rolls around, Reggie and Alex are both antsy to get back to business, and his own fingers are itching to write something to completion. Julie returns to LA and they settle into an odd but manageable rhythm, where lyrics are being written, chords are being finalized, and beats are being considered, but thee heart is missing.

He’s not sure what he needs to do to fix it. No, not the sound. For once in his life, he doesn’t care about the sound, about how raw the melodies are. He wants to fix them. All writing sessions are a full band affair, but Andi is happy with what they have so far, so it’s not like he can complain that this arrangement isn’t working.

They’ve embarked on a tentative friendship, one that’s a shadow of what it used to be, but it puts Alex’s creased eyebrow and pinched expression at ease, and let’s Reggie take a break from being a buffer.

The boys had been sparse on the details from her side, invoking some sort of convoluted pact of friendship and loyalty, though he didn’t mind. He just wish he could talk to her like how he used to.

It’s July 4th when they’ve got most of the album squared away, a tentative title and theme making its way into existence. They had decided to spend the day at the beach, though retreating to Alex and Willie’s private patio to watch the fireworks.

She has a blanket wrapped around her shoulder, though the air is pretty balmy, curls still (always) crazy.

“I shouldn’t have walked away.” He sidles up next to her, tone low.

She turns to him with a little surprise in her eyes, though she tries to mask it. (He knows her better than he knows any simple chord progression, it didn’t faze him).

“I yelled.” She offered.

“I never apologized.”

“Neither did I. We just kind of silently moved on.” She adds, as an afterthought.

He’s grateful everyone else is inside, getting dinner ready.

“And so, you wanna what, try again? What if it doesn’t work? What if we break us so bad there’s no coming back?”

He’s struck with the same fear, it had reared his ugly head over the past 7 months.

“I didn’t communicate with you. That’s on me. I took you being there for granted.” It’s not all he wants to say. There’s so much more. Confessions and apologies he’s written in his head for nights and nights and nights. There’s the impulse to just crash their lips together and show her what he means. There’s the overwhelming desire to piece them back together, his heart having beat horribly off rhythm these past months.

He’s grateful, in a way. That neither of them had shared every detail to Alex or Reggie or Flynn. It feels like they still own it. Their truth. Their love. Their pain.

“If we try again, it needs to be different this time.” She doesn’t say that she needs more of him. Perhaps she knows he was hers from the start. His heart was always hers to break.

“Jules, I may have spent countless days thinking about what went wrong, and thinking about what I needed to do to numb the pain, but there was never a moment, not even a single second that I was ever not in love with you. I’ve wondered for far too long how it would to be loved by someone like you, and perhaps I’m too selfish to never want to give it up. I would rather never sing again than not have you by my side.”

He’s not sure what exactly eased her resolve, somewhere in that ramble, but he sees her soften.

When they reenter the kitchen, everyone else is drinking and munching on food, and there’s this sense of ease that envelops the whole room. Nobody comments on it. He doesn’t offer anything. The night continues.

_There was just the one time. The one time he supposes their relationship interfered with the band. It was a sunny afternoon and Julie had been bustling through the kitchen, trying to make her mom’s arroz con pollo. He was leaning against the wall, watching her until she noticed him. She hummed, raising an eyebrow at him, silently questioning his motives._

_“Are you almost done?”_

_“Yeah it’s all ready to eat. Why, are you hungry?”_

_He instead sauntered over and picked her up by the waist. He set her down on the counter, grateful that his absolutely wonderful girlfriend was a clean as you cook kind of person. She giggled as she pulled him by his shirt. There was kissing. And more kissing. They were two hours late to practice, and while their disheveled appearances earned them some strife, it hadn’t been bad._

It’s not until their talk, their decision to start anew, though very slow, that things feel better. Normal. He wonders if he needs to apologize to Alex and Reggie, too, considering they dealt with the weirdness for months without so much as a complaint.

When he tries to do so, they both tell him to kindly shut up. They don’t ask whether he and Julie are back together. Nobody does, in fact. Not even Ray, who smiles behind his coffee cup when they all have breakfast.

Come September, their album is being heralded for having a rejuvenated sound, with crisp vocals, and just enough maturation to show progress without turning off their fans.

They play at the Orpheum again.

They move in together again. (New apartment, though).

They celebrate Alex and Willie (finally) getting married.

They ring in the new year together. 

They’re Luke and Julie again.But better. Less pain and restlessness, no more words left unsaid, more song writing.

Same love, though. That hadn't ever changed. It had never really been a question of love, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Julie's song lyrics are from How by Elina and Luke's are from JP Cooper's verse in Is It Just Me?.


End file.
